Blithe Spirit
by Rick Rowling
Summary: Austria and Hungary have been happily unified for quite some time, living together very contentedly in spite of their troubled lives. They've long since moved on, or so they thought. However, when you've lived as long as they have, sometimes it gets difficult to live with the past. Especially when the past comes to live with you! Inspired by the play Blithe Spirit by Noel Coward.


_**AN:**_ _Wow, it's been a while. Listen, I'm gonna update other things soon, but I just suddenly got this burst of inspiration this weekend when I went to see this play! It was hilarious, I totally recommend it. Anyway, I was thinking about it and this sort of just came to me. Hope somebody else likes it as much as I did. This is going to open up a whole new world of terrible ideas for me._

* * *

It was the evening of a party, one the Austro-Hungarian household had indeed been looking forward to for quite a long time. The table was set in the dining room, Venezia had polished the silverware and now worked in the kitchen, and the fire crackled cheerily by the fireplace as the married couple awaited their guests. Austria stood serenely by the window, taking in the view of the estate, now lit with the vanishing twilight.

"Darling, what are you thinking of?" Asked his wife, Hungary. She sidled up next to him and slipped a hand into his.

"Oh, nothing of any consequence," replied he, shaking his head indifferently. "Just that the moon over there is such a striking shade of silver. And… Well, nothing, really. Just, you know, old days."

"Silver, you say?" She said, following his gaze. "Interesting. I have only once heard you use that word to describe a color."

"What do you mean to imply?"

She shrugged. "Whatever you mean me to imply."

"I don't know at all what you mean."

"Sure you do. I know you sometimes think of _him_ when you stand here, staring out over the land like a soldier surveying the battlefield. A shadow passes over your face."

"I—I don't! It doesn't!" His word were contradicted blatantly by the deep crimson blush that crept over his face.

"It did, just now! You're embarrassed at the idea! That's so cute. You're lucky I'm not the jealous type." She rolled her eyes and dropped his hand back at his side. Her long green dress glittered in the firelight as she drifted away to examine the small photo on the mantelpiece.

"My love, why should you be the jealous type? You have nothing to be jealous of." Austria followed her, eager to regain some husband points.

"Oh, Darling, don't lie to me and make a fool of yourself." She pouted and patted his cheek soothingly, returning her gaze to the portrait. "I was rather attracted to him myself, back in the day. But flings are flings." Hungary shrugged and set it back on the mantel.

"Really? Is that so?" Austria asked, intrigued. "So are you saying the level of attraction you had for him was different?"

"Well, of course! I'm sure you're not attracted to me the same way, either! After, all, he was much more physically attractive than I am, wasn't he?"

"I… What?" He needed a moment to catch up.

"Come on, let's not beat around the bush here, we both know the truth."

"Which is?"

"Well? Wasn't what you had with him much more passionate? Wasn't he much more attractive?"

"Are you trying to trap me? Why are you bringing him up, anyway?" He was definitely blushing now; he had to find a way out of this.

"Of course I'm not trying to trap you, I would never do anything of the sort! I'm just wondering, which of us were you more attracted to?"

"I—Neither! It was different!" He shrugged helplessly. "We were young! It was a mess! Of course it wasn't the same with you, that doesn't mean you're any less attractive. I just—I don't know!"

"You're cute when you're mortified." Hungary laughed and kissed him on the nose, then glided away again and sat down on the sofa. "But I suppose you're right. It would be silly to have the same kind of passion with each other that we had separately with him. At our age?" She rolled her eyes. "Ridiculous."

"Well, not really." Austria said, frowning. "Why shouldn't we love each other just the same way?"

"Well, look at us! We're hardly wild teenagers anymore, are we? That kind of blatant burning desire at our age would be downright embarrassing. Face it, Dear. We're old! I'm going grey, and Venezia my taste in music is terrible. You made a doctor's appointment last week to get your cholesterol checked. It's just not going to happen."

"So? Young people can be health-conscious. And middle-aged people can be passionate." He leaned over the edge of the couch and wrapped his arms around her waist.

"Not really." She laughed and pushed him off, standing up as the doorbell suddenly rang. "Come on, that'll be someone we know. Act normal."

"You can talk." He pushed himself up, then gave a sudden cry of pain as his back spasmed.

"Ha! Rehabilitated love, my sweetheart? Come here, let me help you." She hurried to his side and helped support him with an arm around his waist. "Come on, I'll get you a drink and you'll feel better. Venezia! Could you get the door, please?"

"Yes, Hungary! Sorry!" Venezia scurried out from the kitchen, still in his maid's uniform. He sprinted down the hall and answered the door just when the bell was buzzed sharply for the third time. "Good evening, sir! Please, come in. Let me take your coat." Venezia greeted with impeccable professionalism, despite his flustered state, but the stranger gave no reply right away.

"Who might that be?" Said Hungary, peering down the hall to check. She saw only a darkly cloaked figure in a trenchcoat and couldn't make out any features immediately. But a second later a flash of light glinted off of the stranger's eyes, and suddenly she thought she recognized him. Rather, she dreaded the possibility of recognizing him. "Darling?" She said, steering her husband to her vantage point. "Who is that?"

"Hm? Oh!" Austria nearly jumped out of his skin and walked back a few paces. "Oh, well, no matter. I'm sure the other guests will be arriving any minute, and I'm sure you can get along until then!" He was nearly shaking, completely avoiding eye contact with her, and quickly walked off when she tried to grab him by the arm.

"Darling?" Said Hungary, her voice as cold as ice. "Who have you invited?" She was smiling, but it was as if she did it to hide some other emotion. "Who have you invited," she repeated. "Into our house?"

"I'm sorry?" Ventured Austria, just as Venezia reentered the room. His face betrayed only the faintest trace of anxiety as he smiled blithely and curtseyed as he introduced the stranger. His hands were barely shaking as he spoke, and his voice only trembled just a little bit when he moved. One could hardly tell he was frightened at all.

"The representative nations of the unified Austro-Hungarian Empire welcome for dinner the country of Romania."


End file.
